


To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

by AnneCumberbatch



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dream or Nightmare, Heartbeats, M/M, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Soft Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:33:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25095409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneCumberbatch/pseuds/AnneCumberbatch
Summary: John is sleeping beside him and his arms are wrapped tightly around Sherlock.It's a dream come true, isn't it?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 33
Kudos: 53





	To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

The dark room was quiet save the sound of gentle breathing from the two men lying in the bed. While John was sleeping, Sherlock remained awake, resting his head softly against John’s chest, listening to the deep thump of John’s heartbeat. Sherlock’s arm was wrapped around John’s torso, holding him tightly and close. One of John’s arms was tucked under Sherlock’s shoulders and the other draped across his body, his hand closed around Sherlock’s hip.

A few hours after midnight, John shifted in his arms. Sherlock closed his eyes and silently willed him back to sleep, but no such luck. John shifted against the mattress, rolling slightly towards Sherlock. “Mm… Sherlock?”

“Mm.” Sherlock hummed in response.

“What time is it?” John yawned.

Sherlock glanced over his shoulder at the dim light from the clock on his nightstand. “3:30am.”

John squeezed Sherlock’s hip. “Have you been awake all this time?”

Sherlock swallowed before whispering. “Yes.”

Sherlock’s curls were ruffled as John exhaled a low, fond chuckle. “Why?”

With a small shrug, Sherlock nuzzled closer to John’s warm body.

John’s arms tightened around him and Sherlock felt John’s hand brush through his hair. Firm lips were pressed to the top of his head and suddenly, Sherlock felt an intense longing to feel those lips against his own. John’s voice rumbled softly next to him. “What’s wrong?”

Feeling John starting to shift away, Sherlock held on tightly and interrupted his movements by responding quickly. “Your hand feels remarkable on my waist, please don’t.” John’s movements stilled and Sherlock pressed his face against John, mumbling the rest of his words. “I… I am afraid if I go to sleep, this will turn out to have been just a dream. And I couldn’t bear it, John. Being so close and knowing it wasn’t real.”

John’s arms tightened around him. “Sherlock…”

“Just go back to sleep.”

“Darling, this isn’t a dream.” John whispered softly into his hair.

“You don’t know that, I have very vivid dreams, John.” Sherlock frowned into John’s shirt at the chuckle he felt vibrate through the warm man next to him.

“I do know, because I’m here. I’m right here. And I love you. Sleep, my love. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Sherlock tilted his head back to peer up at John in the darkness. “Will you?”

John smiled down at him. “Yes. Sleep.”

Sherlock gazed up at him for a few moments. “I love you too, you know.”

John leaned down and nuzzled their noses together. “I know. Go to sleep.”

Sherlock sighed softly and resumed his position of being entirely wrapped up in John. He closed his eyes and within moments, he had fallen asleep.

The bright morning light seeping through his windows woke Sherlock slowly. Soft stretching, yawning, sinking further into the warmth of the bed… His eyes opened suddenly, and his hand flew out next to him, landing on empty mattress. He sat up and twisted, eyes searching, scanning, for any sign the bed had contained another occupant besides himself. Refusing to believe what his eyes were telling him, Sherlock wrapped himself up in the sheet and staggered out of bed, his legs still waking up, and into the kitchen. With a glance at the kitchen table, his eyes saw, resting in the middle of the table, the letter John had written. The letter which told him in no uncertain terms that he was no longer a part of John’s life and to never come near him again. He would never see John’s beautiful blue eyes. He would never hear his voice again. Would never have him close ever again… Sherlock immediately sank to his knees with a low cry of pain, crumpling into himself. His forehead rested against the edge of the thin rug on the floor, his body trembling with a sudden chill.

It hadn’t been real.

It had been a dream.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Questions and comments are always welcome.


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